


Bittersweet

by frenchforbird



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Character Death, F/M, Widowmaker origin story, idkkk, literally the night widow kills her husband??, overwatch headcanon, um it's really sad
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-14
Updated: 2017-01-14
Packaged: 2018-09-17 09:37:27
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,070
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9316733
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/frenchforbird/pseuds/frenchforbird
Summary: "Gérard was a fool to ever love you.""You don't know anything about him."---This is a really sad fic about Widowmaker and the night she killed her husband. I hope you enjoy!---





	

**Author's Note:**

> Translations:
> 
> Ma chére... tu ne dors pas - My dear... you are not sleeping.
> 
> Parle moi, s'il te plait - talk to me, please
> 
> mon cher - my dear (masculine)
> 
> tu sais je t'aime de tout mon cœur - you know I love you with all my heart
> 
> tu est forte - you are strong

Gérard had brought her a rose. A single red bud, discarded on the nightable. Amélie could barely pick out the color that night, the only light in the room coming from the streetlights outside. It was easy to focus on the dim shape of the rose- less so to focus on why it had been given. Gérard had been her closest friend since their college years together. He knew something was wrong, that Amélie was not the same woman she had been before Talon had kidnapped her. The rose was a peace offering, of sorts. A way of telling her that he was there for her. That he would listen, understand.

Amélie didn’t believe anyone could understand the situation she was in. She still didn’t understand it herself. She was still fighting it, best she could.

“ _Ma chére_...” She was almost startled as her husband rested his hand on her back and spoke. “ _Tu ne dors pas. _”__

__“You’re the one who wants me to speak better English, Gérard.”_ _

__“Something is wrong, chére. Talk to me. I don’t care what language you speak. You say Talon did nothing, but here you sit, awake at some… ungodly hour.” She heard him sigh, pulling himself up in their bed. “ _Parle moi, s’il te plait.__ _

__As much as Amélie would like to say she was fighting it, there was still the weight of the kitchen knife in her hand. It was getting unbearable, day after day, to keep the pieces of her mind on the surface. Talon had done an excellent job reprogramming it. It was pure luck she had lasted this long. As Gérard leaned his head on her shoulder, she turned the knife over in her hand. She could feel her husband tense. She had meant for him to see it, of course. Maybe he could stop her. Kill her before she could kill him. This was the man she _loved_!_ _

__She could barely remember the hope she had the first day she returned. The urge to kill was there, yes, but it was buried under relief and hope and love. It was three days before the hard resolve to disobey Talon began to waver. Dr. Zeiger had been asking too many questions during her therapy session. She was a family friend, but each bit of poking and prodding was digging up Amélie’s new purpose. She hadn't told Gérard about how she stormed out of Dr. Zeiger's office and told the woman she wasn't coming back. Amélie had, of course, returned for the next session… but the damage was done._ _

__“I’m supposed to kill you. I’m doing my best, _mon cher_ , not to.” Behind every word was the heartbreak she had been suffering for the past two weeks, since she had woken in that Talon prison with the burning urge to kill Gérard Lacroix. _ _

__“Oh, Amélie…” She hated the kindness in his voice. He had more pity than fear._ _

__“You are Talon’s greatest threat- and I am your greatest weakness. You would never suspect me, not of this.”_ _

__Gérard did not speak. His hand was still on Amélie’s back, and he seemed almost like he was waiting. She made a disgusted noise, turning to look her lover in the face._ _

__“You fool, call for help! Call for Jack, or Angela, or _anyone_!” She didn't realize she was shouting. Each moment, each breath, and Amélie was slipping farther and farther away._ _

__“Amélie, _tu sais je t’aime de tout mon cœur._ You know this, and we both know nothing can help you now. I've only just realized it- I have been watching you die. This is killing you, ma chére. Not killing me will destroy you.” He didn't seem afraid; he sounded like he was telling her about his day at work. “When you went missing, I feared I would never see you again. I barely slept. You are my life, my love.”_ _

__It took a few moments for Amélie to understand. When she did, she recoiled from Gérard, eyes wide. This was not how she planned the night. The poor woman tried to pull away, but Gérard put his hand on top of hers- the one with the knife._ _

__“Gérard, no-”_ _

__“I will not save myself to watch you die.”_ _

__“ _Gérard!_ ”_ _

__“ _Tu est forte-_ you will overcome this. One day, you will be free.”_ _

__“Please, please, don't let me-”_ _

__He kissed her then. It was a goodbye, and both of them knew it. She mumbled pleas against his neck but didn't fight against him pulling her hand to his neck._ _

__She felt him tense as the metal met his skin. They both stopped moving, the only sound in the dim room their own breaths. Amélie rested her forehead against his, eyes closed._ _

__“Are you afraid?” She whispered to him in French. She had stopped fighting. This was her purpose, her mission._ _

__“Of course I am. What kind of fool would I be if I wasn't?” Gérard laughed, but it was weak. “ _Chérie…_ I will press our panic button. You will need to run- don't let them catch you.”_ _

__“I know.” A pause. “I love you.”_ _

__“I know.”_ _

__“I don't want this.”_ _

__Gérard didn't answer, his hand tightening around hers. “Promise me something.” It was the first time Gérard had sounded afraid that night._ _

__“Anything.”_ _

__“Remember me. No, remember us. Don't let them take your love.”_ _

__“I promise. I’ll _always_ promise.”_ _

__She didn't know when it happened. One moment the couple were trembling in each other's arms. The next, Gérard was gasping for breath, his warm blood staining the white color of his nightshirt. Amélie left before he died. She couldn't bear to stay. It nearly two in the morning, the streets empty. She didn't know where she was walking to. When she stumbled, she realized she was running. She wanted to get away- from Gérard, from Overwatch. From her own mind, which was silent for the first time in two weeks._ _

__Then, she realized she was running to Talon._ _

__They made her like this. They changed her thoughts and wants. And… they were the only ones who could stop her mind from falling in on itself. There were all she had._ _

__Amélie dropped the kitchen knife down a sewer. She wiped the blood on her hands against her nightgown. She knew where to go. She knew what she was supposed to be._ _

__A widow, an assassin. Talon’s newest agent._ _

__Amélie Lacroix was gone._ _

**Author's Note:**

> I definitely didn't cry writing this oooops. 
> 
> I'm always open to requests! Follow me on tumblr at birdfrenchforbird if you want to talk.
> 
> Hope you're having an amazing day!
> 
> EDIT: some things meant to be italicizes aren't. unfortunately, I can't figure out how to fix this. I apologise for this. :(


End file.
